


Ringing in the Deep

by Elvesliketrees



Series: Kink Meme Fills [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Cuddling, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mythological References, Romance, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvesliketrees/pseuds/Elvesliketrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the kink meme prompt: Our Musketeers have different reactions to thunderstorms.</p>
<p>Loud and violent storms with thunder and lightning have always frighted d'Artagnan ever since he was little, even now as an adult they still frighten him if he's alone or not busy on a mission or doing something to take his mind off it. When it get real bad he finds himself usually going to Constance or Athos for silent comfort.</p>
<p>Athos quietly admires storms (when he's not stuck outside in them), there's just something about all the electricity and ozone in the air.</p>
<p>Aramis finds such grand shows of Mother Nature's power exhilarating, all the bright flashing and violent claps of thunder get him seriously horny.</p>
<p>Poor Porthos doesn't really have an opinions of storms, their just something that happen, though he prefurs to be indoors when they do. The only thing he knows is that he never gets any sleep when theres one- thanks to Aramis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ringing in the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Another kink meme fill, thanks for reading! Thanks to mythicalrealm.com for the info on Thor!

Sleep was a luxury to Athos, a soldier's life had taught him that no bed was to be remiss. When he and d'Artagnan had finally approached one another (to Aramis and Porthos' abject relief), it was a time for he and his lover to share, a time for them to love one another in the way that they desired. d'Artagnan had often compared him to a bear when disturbed. However, on a rainy day in June, he was roused from his sleep by a great crash. Sitting up, he looked out the window and grimaced when he saw the forks of lightning shooting through the sky and the rumbling thunder. The window fairly shook with the force of the latest crash, and Athos was glad for the warmth and safety of the apartments that he and d'Artagnan now shared. A whimper was heard behind him, and he looked away from his observation at the window. d'Artagnan was curled up in a small ball, shaking under the blankets and muffling fearful whimpers with his fist. Athos kicked himself, he knew that the boy had a fear of thunderstorms! He had grudgingly admitted it after they had been caught in one, and the death of his father had only exacerbated a fear that stretched all the way back to his childhood. An even louder crash echoed through the streets of Paris, and this time the boy flinched. With a small smile, Athos remembered a small boy climbing into his childhood bed, large eyes bright in the dark, holding up his arms to be held with a murmured "Ollie". Athos knew how to combat this. With a small groan, he climbed out of bed and stoked the fire, and he put some water to boil on the fire, putting some tea leaves in. When it was finally ready, he filled two mugs and approached the bed. He set the mugs on the beside table, and he ran a hand through d'Artagnan's hair. "Oh my love, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he whispered. Another boom sent him scrambling into Athos' arms, and the man held him close, wrapping a blanket about his shoulders. Grabbing the mugs, he handed one to d'Artagnan, who murmured his thanks. With a small smile, Athos turned them to face the window. 

"My brother Thomas was afraid of storms as well. Every time, he would climb into my bed, and my mother would join us when she heard the noise," he said quietly. d'Artagnan sniffled and burrowed in closer. 

"I apologize for waking you, it is a childish fear," d'Artagnan whispered. 

"No, no it is not! Thomas had his fear even until he died, and I do not think of you any less for it! But-but my mother, she would always tell Thomas and I a story, one that would help to calm him, would you like to hear it?" Athos asked tentatively. d'Artagnan looked up at Athos, his eyes alight with curiosity at this new information. Any tale of Athos' childhood was rare, as it hurt the man to speak of those good things which he had lost, even if it had been years. Seeing the curiosity in the Gascon's gaze, Athos smiled and looked down at the still and calmer Gascon. 

"My mother was a great reader, she spent many hours in our library, my brother and myself at her feet. She read books on many rare subjects, including books on the beliefs of other cultures. When my brother was awakened by the storms, she would go down to the library and retrieve a favorite book of Thomas', and therein would lie a story that every time would assuage his fears," Athos said quietly. d'Artagnan looked up at him curiously, and Athos continued. "It is said that the Norse god Thor is the maker of the thunder and the lightning. Whenever a storm is created, he rides his great chariot back and forth across the sky. The thunder is the bumping of his wheels against the floor of the sky, and the thundering of the hooves of the large goats that draw his chariot. He fights his enemies in the sky, and his great hammer Mjollnir is thrown from his hand. Lightning flashes as it leaves his hand, so powerful is the magic that dwells in the hammer. And so, my love, there is nothing to fear, for the battle shall soon be over, and Thor shall soon be done with his work," Athos narrated.    


"Do-do you really believe that Athos?" d'Artagnan asked solemnly, sipping at his tea and curling into Athos' arms. 

"I do not believe in Thor, no, but I believe that God makes the storm. I do not see the danger of them, but I find the power behind them, their capability to shake the earth and light up the sky, that power fills me with awe. 

"It cannot harm us here," d'Artagnan whispered. 

"No, I am here, and now, we sleep," Athos said gently. However, a hand tentatively grasped his arm. 

"Do-do you think we could watch it?" d'Artagnan asked quietly, "And could I have another story?"

"Have you ever heard the story of Thor and his brother Loki?" Athos asked. d'Artagnan shook his head, and Athos took a sip of his warm tea. And so, the two lovers curled up together, Athos intoning those stories of old from a land that seemed worlds away. d'Artagnan felt no fear. 

\---

"Porthos! Porthos!" a voice hissed.

"Uhnh?" Porthos groaned. What time was it? Just then, there was a crash of thunder, and Porthos moaned. He blinked open his eyes to see a black sky with lightning forking across it. Aramis was leaning over him, a huge grin plastered across his face. 

"Porthos, Porthos my love, it's a thunderstorm!" Aramis whispered. With a roll of his eyes, he crawled over to the window by their bed and looked out with Aramis, and saw that it was indeed a thunderstorm. With a sigh and an amused smile, Porthos pulled the squirming Aramis into his lap and wrapped the blanket around both of them. Aramis grasped it at the front, only his head poking above the warm wool. A quiet warmth descended upon the dark room, and Porthos rubbed a hand across his lover's belly. With a deep sigh, Aramis burrowed into Porthos' body and watched the storm with delight. "It's so beautiful," he whispered. Porthos gave a noncommittal grunt and watched the lightning dance across the sky. "Why don't you think it's beautiful?" Aramis whispered. 

"Well, growin' up, it wasn't beautiful to me. Livin' on the streets, it wasn't somethin' beautiful we watched out our windows," Porthos said quietly. Aramis looked up at him and sent him a sympathetic look. 

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, "We can go to bed, if you wish." 

"No! No, and-and that's why I like doin' this with you. It shows me how far I've come, how hard I've worked so that I don't have to huddle in an alleyway to get away from the water. Instead of just survivin', I can settle down with you and enjoy the beauty of God's work, not curse it for what it is. Just don't expect me to do this when we're outside," Porthos explained with a small chuckle at the end. Aramis snickered and rubbed his thigh, and he looked at Porthos with a gentle solemnity. 

"Then here's to beauty," Aramis whispered. 

"Aye, an enjoyin' the simple things, like those we love, and God's work," Porthos whispered. 

"It is exhilarating," Aramis said with a smile. 

"Yeah," Porthos chuckled. A hand grasped his under the blanket, and another let go of the blanket and slowly undid the laces of his shirt. With a large grin, Porthos pulled Aramis even closer and mouthed a kiss on his neck. And so they sat, trading kiss and smiles, and watched the beautiful flashes and booms fight in the sky. Aramis could have sworn he heard a rumbling and the creaking of wheels. 

**Author's Note:**

> That was a short one! Thanks for reading and please feel free to let me know your thoughts!


End file.
